A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature
I am no citizen, but here I reside in the fields
among my dark friends. We’ve laughed
together, but they will not miss me. One day
I’ll vanish without ceremony, tossed into a
rubbish heap, or burned. My absence will harm
no one. Even ripped away, existence denied,
circumstance denigrated, no tears will fall and
the crows will continue. But can a young bird
stolen from its mother thrive? How do we justify
such action? What logic requires that the weakest,
least harmful, be severed from their families in the
guise of security? Crush the nest, then incinerate it.
Vilify the victim. Spread falsehoods, repeat the lies.
Cut their wings. Cage them. Prohibit touch. They
serve no purpose, are less than human. Is this your
truth, your legacy? Your desire? I am no man, but I
stand in these fields, listening, singing. My voice,
swelling through the wind-blown grain, expands
across the plains, casts my vote with every gust,
acknowledging humanity, asking: where is yours?
Copyright 2018 Robert Okaji